Ready to face the music?
by sappy3
Summary: Doctor Granger is going to give the Death Eaters convicts Group Therapy to make them all better.
1. First Session: Getting to know the gang

Thanks: to Krystle Bertoncin, my new Beta, for streamlining this story and cheering me along the way.**  
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><p><strong>Ready To Face The Music?<strong>

First Session: Getting to know the gang

Hermione squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. This was it. At long last, her plan could begin for real. All her hard work in the Muggle universities and hospitals had paved the way here. Her friends thought she was bonkers but she was sure this was something that needed to be done. It was the right thing to do after all.

She opened the door. Was ever a therapist faced with such a Group as this? Mad, depraved and twisted like only a bunch of Death Eaters could be. But like that song went, 'We shall overcome!'

The room was bare and cold. Nothing decorated the rough stones except for a line of fitful torches around its edges and a circle of chairs in the center. It was located deep in the bowels of Azkaban prison on an island in the North Sea. She entered it confidently and sat in the only seat that did not have animated snakelike cuffs restraining its occupants.

"Good morning, Group. My name is Dr. Granger and I am here to help you feel better about yourself, adjust yourself into becoming a normal part of society and discussing any issues you might have with your childhood, your treatment by your former Lord, the vanquished Voldemort or more recently the Aurors and guards.. She wrote beside his name 'Untrustworthy. Do not fall to his base flattery.'

Composing herself, she turned to the next chair.

"I'm Goyle? Er, Snape said I should be here." The heavyset man looked at her blankly.

"And what do you like to do?"

"Oh, I'm good at beating the pulp outta someone. Want me to give Wormtail a knocker?"

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Goyle." She wrote 'Looks stupid as dirt. Uses violence to solve his problems. ?Snape? - Should check the connection.'

"How about you?" she continued to the next chair.

"I'm Dolohov, you little whore. Bet you remember me. Nobody forgets me once they'd got a taste of my Wand." The burly man smiled hungrily at her, revealing a golden tooth. "The fucking Aurors fucking broke it for me, the slimy flobberworms," he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. "Give me your Wand, whore, and I'll show you what Dolohov can do with it. I –"

Hermione silenced him with a sharp jab of her Wand. He chocked convulsively, and then started silently mouthing, "Fuck, fuck, fuck…"

She wrote 'Has a potty-mouth. Use soap?'

Hermione cleared her throat and turned to her next patient. "What about you?" she asked with false brightness.

"Don't you use that tone with me, Mudblood. I am Bellatrix, the Dark Lord's most favoured servant." Bellatrix was tall and fey, and captivating despite everything that's happened. "He will return, better and stronger than ever and he will hand you to me." She laughed wildly. "Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"

Hermione silenced her with a shiver. Wandless and bound hand and foot to her chair, she still scared the shit out of her. She exuded such joyful certainty in her dark delusions that it made her safe real-world seem a dream by comparison. She wrote 'Dangerous as ever. Keep a close eye on her.'

Turning her eyes resolutely away, she faced the next chair.

"Miss Granger." He acknowledged her in those cold, silky tones. "Have you forgotten me already? Tut, tut, that will never do for someone who wishes to be a Healer of the Mind." Oh, how much disdain he could infuse those few words with.

"You will state your name and… and tell us about yourself Prof-, Mr. Snape. I am Dr. Granger. That's how you're supposed to refer to me."

"Dr. Granger? But that is a Muggle term and you, Miss Granger, are a Witch, a Witch, sitting in a Magical Building in the company of Magical Beings. Or have you renounced your gift?" Tall and angular, his bird of prey beak of a nose and curtains of oily hair, made him seem unchanged.

Hermione ground her teeth. She knew this was going to happen. He was questioning her authority! She lifted her clipboard to hide her face and wrote in large letters next to Mr. Snape's name 'Insubordinate'. She underlined it several times before she put it on her knees again.

"Mr. Snape," Hermione said sternly, "all that you have said is beside the point but I will answer you this time. Psychotherapy is a Muggle Field, developed in the Muggle World using Muggle methods. Its practitioners are referred to by the title Doctor no matter whom they happen to be or where they are just as a Healer will remain a Healer if he wanders into a Muggle hospital and treats Muggle patients. Now state your name and business!"

"Oh, very well… Dr. Granger. My name is Severus Tobias Snape. But seeing as you insist on formalities… you may refer to me as Master Snape."

"Master Snape?" Hermione repeated, flabbergasted.

"Yes?"

"No!" she shouted. She was losing her control. Pettigrew was exchanging uncertain glances between Snape and her. Goyle was looking attentively at him; probably waiting for instructions on whether he wanted her softened up a little or just pulped. Dolohov was still mouthing 'fuck, fuck fuck,' but now a great big smile was smeared all over his face. She didn't even dare to look at Bellatrix. She needed to do something quick.

"Mr. Snape," she shouted. Then, clearing her throat repeated again in a quieter voice. "Mr. Snape, you may have titles in other contexts but even if they weren't stripped from you when you were sentenced for life, they are irrelevant in these meetings, unlike mine. In these meetings, I am your doctor and you are my patient just like the rest of the Group." She smiled toothily at him. "Remember that."

"Oh, very well. I am not a vain man after all." She rolled her eyes. He was certainly insolent. "So, you wish to know what I like to do, I understand. There's no harm in that, I suppose. Recently I've redeveloped my interest in the Mind. Our Healers consider ailments of the mind, unlike ailments of the body incurable. Saint Mungo's Ward for the Incurably Insane is full of poor souls consigned to their fate as though hope was a foreign concept to the Healers. But surely, as the saying goes, where there's life there's hope and where there's Magic there's a path.

"Indeed, in the Muggle World such paths were trodden and enthused, I decided to follow them. I am currently working on my thesis and hope to soon achieve my doctorate in this fascinating field. I will not bore you with the details of it." He was mocking her!

Her hands were shaking. She couldn't write anything. She silenced him and turned to the next seat. "You."

"I am Professor Carrow." The squat man intoned. Then he giggled. "My calling is the Dark Arts. I can teach you much." His eyes gleamed at her. She wrote 'Believes he is still a Hogwarts teacher? Fascinated by the Dark Arts.'

"And you?" she asked his sister, and the last of her patients.

"I don't have to answer to the likes of you" the curvaceous woman said dismissively, staring over her head. "I am Alecto Carrow, Mistress of the Carrows and so much above you, Mudblood, that were our roles reversed I would chop you to bits with a few Sectumseptras and feed your dirty remains to my Crups for speaking out of turn." She gave her a hungry, meaty smile.

Hermione wrote 'Has Umbridgism.'

"Well Group, now that we all know a little bit about each other it is time to discuss what we each hope to achieve in these sessions. I am going to lift all of the silencing charms and we will have our very first group discussion. Remember, be polite, be supportive and let me be your guide. If you misbehave too badly you will be silenced again and will not be able to take part in our discussion. Understood?" Reluctant nods were made. She lifted the Charms.

"Fuck yeah." Dolohov shouted, "Crucio!" Bellatrix crowed and "Please you," Pettigrew squeaked.

"No, no, no," Hermione shouted. "I want constructive ideas. Goyle, what do you want to get from these meetings?" He looked easy to direct and a big fellow like him would surely have no problem to be heard over this din.

"Er… I want more room for my walkies. Snape says you can get me that?"

"Yes, that's good Mr. Goyle. But what about talking about your troubled pas-"

"I want to have fuck-'em walkies too!" Dolohov interrupted her. "And Wand wavies and-"

"I want the Longbottom brat. I want to pinch and teach and mince him some edifying lessons in screech-" Bellatrix crooned.

"Quiet!" Hermione shouted. "Improved incarceration conditions such as walking space are part of the deal we have," she explained in the sudden silence. "You have much to look forward to, assuming it's within reason of course." She didn't bother to glare at the unrepentant Dolohov and Bellatrix. "But what I was asking you is how you hope to improve yourselves through these meetings. Goyle," she addressed the large man once more. "You hope to find better ways to deal with problems than through violence, right?"

"Does that mean I can't have my walkies?" he asked in a hurt tone.

"No, it doesn't mean any such thing."

"Oh, well then." He scratched his head on the back of his chair and drew his brows together in concentration. "Then can I have my walky now?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. Was he misunderstanding her on purpose? Surely he couldn't be that dumb. She would deal with him another time. She turned to Amycus Carrow. "You hope to gain the respect of others so you could teach them again, right?"

"I suppose so, yes." The man sounded surprised. Hermione beamed at him. Finally!

"And you. You wish to become trustworthy again, right Peter?" she forced herself to say, and bit her tongue as soon as she finished.

"Of course, dear lady, as should we all." He turned a triumphant look to the rest of the group. "You can always trust your Peter."

"Tell it to her straight." Snape sneered from his seat.

Alecto made a khrrrek sound through her teeth. Pettigrew paled.

"What about the rest of you?" Hermione asked.

"I want to be a good nonverbal caster like Sev and Bellatrix," Dolohov replied thoughtfully. "Never could get enough zing into them silent as fuck curses." He glared at her chest. "So next time, there would be no fucking problem."

Bellatrix's eyes suddenly lit up. "I want to be prettier. I want the Dark Lord to adore me and come back for me again." Hermione eyes boggled. She could hear some snorts from the others. Bellatrix was giving them the evil eye while murmuring, "Pretty pretty pretty! I'll be so pretty pretty pretty!"

"And you? What do you hope for, Mr. Snape?" Hermione challenged her ex-professor.

"Patience? I was never much good at that, was I?" he asked her. "And of course, I must learn to contain my heart. I always had too much heart. Don't you agree, Doctor?"

Hermione tried not to snort. The man was either completely delusional or a great joker. "Of course not, Mr. Snape. Too much heart? Any less and you'd be sucking ours to fill the hole you have in your chest. 'Too much heart.' Give me a break."

Snape huffed. "Clearly you're prejudiced. I should have expected as much from one of Potter's little friends. My tender heart is a joke to you. You have wounded me."

"I'm completely objective." Hermione interjected. "My oath as a psychotherapist makes me so."

"But behind the oath lies a petty, vindictive, little girl that wants to punish me for having the heart to be an outspoken and caring teacher."

Hermione clutched her clipboard with whitened fingers. This was a travesty. "I am the doctor here. I'm the only objective person in this room!" She wouldn't let him get to her. "As your doctor I must tell you that what you lack is compassion. That is what you'll have to work on acquiring." She didn't give him a chance to reply. "What about you, Ms. Carrow?" She pointed her Wand at her like a baton.

Alecto eyed the Wand carefully. "I want nothing from you. How can a Mudblood like you do anything but degrade my mind and very magic with her base insinuations?"

"You will have to drop this attitude if you wish to improve," Hermione replied coldly. "Tolerance is what you will need to learn here."

"That's right!" Pettigrew crowed. "Don't let her put on airs, lady. Teach her foul tongue proper manners."

"That's enough, Pettigrew."

"Of course, lady. Peter is only here to help. Say the word and Peter will be overjoyed to obey. Your psychorethapy will be triumphant!" He turned to Alecto. "You'll see."

"I said that's enough." She waved her Wand, silencing Pettigrew, then the rest of them.

"Well," Hermione said brightly, "that wasn't so bad, was it? We all know what we should work on now, right? Pettigrew must work on his trustworthiness, Mr. Goyle on finding alternatives to violence, Mr. Dolohov needs to work on his language and bad manners, Bellatrix… can work on becoming prettier," Hermione said uncertainly. It sounded harmless enough and she couldn't make herself face Bellatrix's anger by suggesting anything else, not yet. She shivered. "Mr. Snape, you must work on your compassion, and patience, you don't have much of that either. Mr. Carrow, you are to work on gaining respect and your sister must work on her tolerance of others. I want you each to think in the week you have until our next meeting how to fulfill your task. When we meet, you will tell your ideas to the rest of the Group and we will discuss them and make suggestions on how to improve them.

"Remember, if you are not cooperative and make an effort to complete your tasks I will be forced to dismiss you from these meetings and you will not benefit from improved conditions in your incarceration that Azkaban promised.

"Good luck and good bye. Until next time."

She went to the door and sent the green sparkles to signal the guards that nothing bad happened and she was ready to leave.

In the room behind her seven charm-gagged cuffed ex-Death Eaters waited to be released.


	2. Second Session: Defects for Everyone

Thanks: to Krystle Bertoncin, my new Beta, for streamlining this story and cheering me along the way.**  
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><p><strong>Ready to Face the Music?<strong>

Second Session: Defects for Everyone

"Hello everyone," Hermione greeted the group cheerfully as she sat in her chair and lifted the silencing charms from the group. She gave them all a pointed look.

After a moment Pettigrew's eyes suddenly widened and he squeaked "Hello, Dr. Granger." The rest stared at him witheringly. His shoulders began to hunch and he gave her a pleading smile. She ignored him and continued to stare at the rest of them. As the silence lengthened, she began tapping her foot impatiently and fingering her wand. Finally, one by one, they said "Hello, Dr. Granger."

She let out her breath. "Good, good. I see you're all ready and eager to start our second session." The Etiquette Sheets she sent them earlier had done their job! After the fiasco with Mr. Snape last time she had brainstormed for three days before she came up with them. "Today's session will be about exploring your ideas on how to make yourself better people. I hope everyone gave a lot of thought to this matter. I cannot empathize enough how important this is for all of you. Don't you agree?"

A few "Yes, Dr. Granger." and one quivering "Yes, Oh dear, dear lady!" filled the conversational gap. Dr. Granger made a face.

"So, would anyone like to volunteer to be first?"

"Let it be me, dear lady," Pettigrew crowed enthusiastically. Everyone looked expectantly at the doctor. The doctor took a breath and turned to face her first volunteer.

"All right, Mr. Pettigrew. Tell us what you came up with." She looked down at her clipboard. "Your assignment was to become trustworthy again."

"Yes, yes, of course. I thought of nothing but that, my lady. From morn till dusk and beyond Peter sat and pondered this question. He did not waste this precious time on leisurely meals or lengthy washes or lazy daydreams. All he did was sit and think about how to earn this lofty thing: trustworthiness, how you may find it in your heart to believe Peter Pettigrew is sincere in telling you that he only lives to serve you, dear, sweet doctor Lady. I-"

"Yes, yes, that's all very well, Mr. Pettigrew, but what were the ideas you spent so much time coming up with?" She wrinkled her nose. He must have been sincere about foregoing the pleasures of washes at least, though his rotund figure did not lend itself to his other claim.

"Erm, well, you can trust me, my lady. Poor old Pettigrew would not dream of lifting a finger against you, the great Witch Doctor Healer Granger. I have always admired you and craved your respect. Peter lives only to please you. Can you look Peter in the eyes and tell him that you will never be able to trust him? Please tell me that this isn't so. You see before you a shadow of a Wizard that only your trust can restore in some measure. No one trusts Pettigrew. No one believes him. They all doubt him because they think Peter betrayed his friends, the Marauders, who trusted him with their lives, but could you resist the power of the Dark Lord if you were in his place? Could anyone? Only Harry Potter ever faced him unbent and lived to tell of it. Lady, have pity on me. You can call Pettigrew a wretch. You can spit on him and despise him but please tell Peter that it's possible one day you will trust him."

Hermione felt bile rise up in her throat. She wanted to spit on this wretch. She wanted to tell him she would never ever trust him. Not in a million years. That he deserved nothing from her or anyone else… but she couldn't. She couldn't do such a thing and still consider herself a good psychotherapist. She needed to give this wretch some hope. "I don't now, Peter. You want me to trust you but trust must be earned. How will you earn it?"

Pettigrew seemed ready for this question. Ignoring the others' disdainful expressions he looked her straight in the eye and replied. "You want me to prove my trustworthiness to you, but how can Peter do that when he has no power to prove it with? Give me some power, lady, and you will see how trustworthy I am. Release me from these cuffs and lend me your wand. Peter will not abuse it but do as you wish and return it to you when you request it. You will know then that I am trustworthy."

Everyone became stock still. Hermione gripped her Wand with whitened fingers. "Any other ideas?"

Pettigrew did not falter. "Do not fear. You know this is the only way, my lady. You hesitate because you heard bad things about Pettigrew, but Peter has never hurt the lady. Nothing bad will happen to you." He smiled at her. "Guards beyond count wait outside the door ready to rescue the lady should anything happen to her. Wards as staunch as Dumbledore guard against any attempt to escape. You have nothing to fear. Release Peter and give him the wand and the lady will see he is as tame as a pet rat." His ratlike eyes gleamed at her. His yellowed teeth appeared in what he must have thought was a disarming smile.

Her confrontation with him at the end of her third year came back to her with a vengeance. He must be mad as a hatter, to say such things. Hermione silently repeated Professor McGregor's mantra from her Uni days: 'don't give in to their demands my boys and girls. No matter how passionate, how sure and sincere they seem to you, just remember one thing. It's all built on mad, simplistic foundations that will crumble at the first whiff of common sense. You remember when to say no or they'll eat you up for breakfast before you know it.'

Hermione tightened her lips and gave Pettigrew a pointed stare before saying "No."

"But–" he began.

Hermione lifted her wand threateningly and said, "I said no and I meant it. Trust, Mr. Pettigrew, is not something that's freely given, like candy, in great spades, particularly to someone with your past. It must be earned over time and in small doses. Won't you agree?"

"If the lady says no, Pettigrew cannot argue with that," Pettigrew muttered before taking a deep breath. "What must Peter do to earn the lady's trust?"

"Does anyone have suggestions for Mr. Pettigrew, Group?" Hermione asked her Group. "How do you think Mr. Pettigrew can become trustworthy again? Remember, raise your heads if you have something to say and wait for my permission before you speak."

Snape instantly had his nose in the air, managing to look disdainful and bored.

"Yes, Mr. Snape."

"'Mr. Pettigrew', likes mouldy cheese. He salivates at the mere whiff of it. Isn't that right, Wormtail?" Pettigrew sputtered at this but Snape didn't give him a chance to say anything. "Recall Pavlov's experiment, Dr. Granger. This rat in human clothing will be easy to train with such rewards. He will salivate his way into what will seem to you a perfect trustworthiness." Dolohov and the Carrows guffawed. "Stupid Wormtail," Mr. Dolohov added between snorts.

"Don't listen to him, my lady!" Pettigrew screeched. "He was the Dark Lord's favourite. Don't demean yourself by listening to him. He's got a poisoned tongue and he always bit the hand that fed him in the end. Lily, Potter, Albus Dumbledore, the Dark Lord…"

Snape made a hem-hem sound and theatrically lifted his nose once more.

"Yes, Mr Snape," she sighed.

"It seems like 'Mr. Pettigrew' forgot your instructions on proper etiquette for our Group meetings, Dr. Granger. He has clearly spoken out of turn just now and he addressed you improperly as Lady instead of Doctor numerous times today. Perhaps some negative reinforcement is in order?" he asked her mockingly. Pettigrew gave her a worried look and bit his lip.

"That's enough, Mr. Snape." Hermione ground out. How she wished she could punish him instead of Pettigrew but she had to follow the rules. As Professor McGregor liked to say, 'If you don't follow the rules you've set, they are not Rules but whims.' "I'm afraid I have to take an etiquette point from you, Mr. Pettigrew." Lifting her wand over her shoulder she conjured the blackboard she prepared beforehand and replaced the zero next to Pettigrew's name with a minus one. Pettigrew's eyes filled with tears and she looked away, disgusted.

"Anyone else have any ideas? Yes Mr. Carrow."

"It seems to me that the best answer to your concerns lies within the field of the Dark Arts. To ensure Mr. Pettigrew's trustworthiness all you need to do is make him swear an Unbreakable Oath on the matter. With the proper wording his trustworthiness can be ensured." He giggled.

Hermione paled, and then scolded herself. She should have expected something like this from a crowd of ex-Death-Eaters. Gathering her thoughts she slowly replied. "Putting aside the issue of using shady magic in the first place, our task here is to heal faulty minds, not chain them into a semblance of normalcy. Furthermore, no oath can cover every possible contingency. If it is only the oath that holds Mr. Pettigrew in check and not his own morals and earnest wish to be a better man than he cannot truly be trusted."

"But the Unbreaka-"

"No, Mr. Carrow. Just no. Anyone else?" Goyle looked at her and started moving his head up and down. "Did you wish to say something, Mr. Goyle?"

"Eh…" Goyle's lips quivered, worriedly. "Ah… hmm…" Obviously the man wasn't comfortable having everyone look at him. Being intellectually challenged, he must fear the ridicule of his fellows. Hermione smiled encouragingly at him. He smiled back. "What do want me to say?" he asked her.

Hermione ground her teeth and gentled her tone. "Whatever it is you wished to say."

Goyle's brows furrowed before suddenly his eyes lit up. "Can I have a bigger chair? And bigger cuffs? They're too small for me. My back hurts and I have bruises on my wrists and ankles."

"What does that have with Mr. Pettigrew's dilemma?"

"Well, maybe his chair is uncomfortable for him too. Yeh, you should give him a wider chair so his stomach won't bother him so much. It's not fair to give big Wizards small chairs."

Hermione was losing her patience fast. The rest barely suppressed their laughter while Pettigrew was vainly trying to inhale his rotund stomach. "This has nothing to do with the subject of our conversation, Mr. Goyle! Why would you ask permission to speak just to go on such a tangent?"

"Beg pardon? You were the one who asked me to say something. I never asked permission for nothing. Except the bigger chair, er, chairs. And cuffs." He looked at her with big, confused eyes.

Hermione breathed slowly through her gritted teeth. "You did! When I asked, if anyone else, had any suggestions, to help Mr. Pettigrew, with his problems, you looked at me. And moved. Your head."

"I wasn't asking permission, ma'am, er, doctor. I was just rubbing my neck. My chair's small and my neck hurt. Can't I rub my neck?"

"You-" Hermione wanted the ground to swallow her. How could she make such a basic mistake? She had to do damage control, or she'll never live it down. She cleared her throat. "From now on if I ask whether you have something to say and you didn't mean to say anything, don't make up something but just say you didn't mean to say anything. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Dr Granger."

"Good, good. Now…" she tried to regain her thread of thought. What was she about to say? "Now… so no one else has any suggestion to help Mr. Pettigrew." No one rose to the challenge this time except Dolohov who rubbed his head with great exaggeration and made baby faces at her. She glared at him until he stopped. "Well then, as I was saying, Mr. Pettigrew, what you need to do is prove your trustworthiness gradually to us, in small doses. Is that acceptable to you?" the man nodded vigorously. "Well then, we are going to perform a little exercise to expedite this. Each of us will tell you something in confidence while the others can't hear you. You must then decide what to do with the information you gain. We will review your performance in next week's session and decide how you did. If you succeed in this, you will regain your etiquette point. Remember, with better points come better imprisonment conditions. Group, I want each of you to tell Mr. Pettigrew something about yourselves. It doesn't have to be anything important, it can be your favorite color or your opinion about someone else in the group. Here, I'll start." She went to Pettigrew's chair and leaned into his ear. "My favorite color is gold," she whispered. Pettigrew eyes shone and he whispered back "You can count on me." His breath was foul.

Getting quickly back into her chair, she gave Mr. Goyle a questioning look. "Yeh, sure," he nodded back. Waving her Wand, she sent Mr. Goyle and Pettigrew, chairs and all, to a corner of the room. Goyle said something to Pettigrew and shouted, "I'm done." to her. One by one, she sent the rest of the group to the corner with Pettigrew. Dolohov seemed amused at the exercise and talked lengthily with Pettigrew in the corner, Bellatrix and Snape barely said a word to him and the Carrows didn't seem to care one way or another.

Finally they were all back in place. Pettigrew's eyes were dancing happily. Hermione took up her clipboard and wrote:

'Proposed trust exercise #7c initiated with Mr. Pettigrew.

Review of results to be made at Session #3.'

She looked at her notes. "How about you, Mr. Goyle? We agreed last session that your task is to find better ways to deal with problems than through violence. Do you have any notions how you will accomplish that?"

The heavy man nodded. "Yeh. From now, I don't use violence."

"That's it?" Hermione demanded, flabbergasted.

"It's not the answer? I should use violence?"

"No! What I mean is, can you elaborate a little?"

"Elaborate?" he asked her blankly.

"Yes. How do you plan to avoid using violence?"

"Oh. I don't punch them, or kick them. I say," he glanced at Snape, who nodded back and mouthed something at him. "I say, 'That bothered me. Please stop.'"

Hermione breathed slowly. "And suppose he doesn't stop whatever it is that's bothering you?"

Goyle's brows lowered. "I say, 'That bothered me. Please stop.' Again."

"And what do you do if he still doesn't stop?" she ground out.

"Erm… then I give him a knocker and take him to St. Mungo's."

"What? Why?"

"Because there must be something wrong with his head if he doesn't get 'That bothered me. Please stop.' after I told it to him two times. The Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo's will have to fix him."

"The wha-, no, never mind." She hid behind her clipboard. How did this oaf manage to do this to her? She was a certified, top of her class, psychotherapist. And yet, again and again he made a fool out of her. It wasn't possible. Snape must be at the bottom of this. Goyle was too stupid to outfox her like that time after time on his own. She remembered the looks the two exchanged. That must be it. She gave Snape a hard smile. Should she say something? Should she oust the contrary man now? No, she'll just sound paranoid. Mustn't have that. She'll deal with this later. She wrote 'Goyle – obviously Snape's cat's-paw for disrupting the Group sessions and degrading my standing in the Group. Goyle must be weaned from Snape so the healing process can begin for him.' Hermione chuckled. Soon Mr. Goyle will no longer be a problem. Isolate Mr. Goyle from Snape's disruptive influence and win the oaf's trust for herself – that was what she'll do.

Putting on a straight face, she looked at her notes. "Moving on now, Mr. Dolohov, your task was to work on your foul language and bad manners. Did you come up with any notions on the subject?"

Dolohov gave her a crooked smile. "Sure. Mungo birds like you kiss their patients to make them all better. I'm so sick in the head that bad words come out of my mouth. So every time you don't like my language, you kiss this mouth and make all the bad words go away. How about it, cunt?" He puckered his lips at her.

She let lose a Stinging Hex at those meaty lips before she could think about it.

"Fuckh! Wha' dyou do tha' for? Fuckhin' 'itch!"

"You will address me as Dr. Granger, Mr. Dolohov." She canceled the hex and replaced the zero on the board next to his name with a minus one. "Continue to behave like this and your score will continue to deteriorate. While your fellows will reap the rewards of their good behavior you will languish away without any 'walkies' or 'wand wavies' as you so elegantly phrased it in our last session."

"You can't do this to me, you whore. I'm Dolohov! I'm not fucking getting points taken from me. Fuck to that. Fuc-"

Hermione cast a mild Silencing Charm on him. "A point will be taken for a whole bad session, I think. If you manage to improve your language and manners by the end of the session your score will return to zero. But you will be silenced for five minutes every time you utter three consecutive curse words. We can't have you disrupting our Group Sessions with your curses. Isn't this a fine notion for dealing with your problem?"

"A most excellent notion." Pettigrew piped in. Mr. Carrow nodded thoughtfully and grinned while his sister sneered. Bellatrix opined that a little Crucio beneath the Silencio will solve the problem much quicker and would be a nice thing to do in any case. Snape gave her an approving half smile while Goyle said he thought Dolohov's cursing was funny and it wasn't fair to silence him like that. Dolohov looked ready to burst.

Hermione hugged her clipboard close to her and wrote a big +1 next to her own name.

"On that note, if your score reaches the minus seven mark, you will leave the Group Therapy, as I outlined in the etiquette sheets you received, so be careful."

"But what about me?" Bellatrix cut in. "It's my turn now, isn't it?" She pouted. "Do you think I look pretty?"

"I- sure." Hermione stuttered.

"You're not just saying that, are you? I wouldn't want you to lie to me."

"No! You look very pretty."

"Good." The woman giggled. "I am pretty. Pretty and cheerful as a jay in May. The Dark Lord will like me. How could he not? All thanks to you, my pretty little Mudblood. Do you think he will reward you to me? We will have such gay old times, me and you, just like we used to. Oh, how happy we were at the Malfoy's, you wailing so prettily on the Ziegler. They didn't like the stains you made," She added conspiratorially, "not at all. But we didn't care about their foibles, did we, my little Mudblood." She giggled again.

Hermione sat rooted to her seat. They heard. They all heard. Hermione smiled a brittle smile. "No. Do… do you need shampoos or soap? Well of course you do, how silly of me to ask. I'll get them for you right away. Or make them. And perfumes, mustn't forget the perfumes. I thought perhaps 'Black Rosette'? It would be no problem to get a bottle for you. Or a couple if you prefer. The guards wouldn't let me give you needles and fabrics to make your own apparel of course, heh heh, but perhaps I could order you robes that will fit you. I can do that and if they don't fit perhaps I can-" Hermione babbled. "Red and forest green. Those will please you, will they not? Or would you rather have something in black? Or maybe both, yes both! I could… I could –" Hermione tore her eyes away from Bellatrix.

Dolohov laughed. "Bellatrix got a new toy."

Bellatrix stopped giggling. "I thought you said I look pretty."

Hermione's eyes remained averted. "With proper accoutrements you will look prettier." She said neutrally. She was the doctor. She was still in control. She just let her tongue run with her for a moment. Everything was all right. Appeasing Bellatrix by prettying her up was simply the task she chose for her patient. Hermione bit her cheek.

Bellatrix' smile returned. "That's true. The Dark Lord will be pleased to see me all polished and pleasing on the day he returns. The fabric has to be green dragon-hide leather, mind. And don't forget the make-up."

"No, of course not."

"Well, go on, gruel Snape about his faults. I know you want to."

Dr. Granger stared murder at her clipboard. She crossed out the pretty +1 next to her name and wrote a little -1 in its place.

"It is your turn, Mr. Snape." She permitted, in a confident voice. "How do you propose to remedy your lack in compassion and patience?"

"As the wise men say, 'act in haste, repent at leisure.' Could truer words have ever been spoken? Therefore, as a test of my patience which I freely admit has always been lacking, I have forgone the pleasure of reaching a hasty decision on this most important matter and will continue to ponder the matter by myself, in a sedately and judicious manner considering all possible aspects of the matter until at length I will find an adequate answer."

"Are you trying to avoid your task?"

"Not at all, Dr. Granger. As I explained, I work diligently on the task you appointed me and even manage in the process to better myself in these very subjects by not giving in to my tendency for verbosity and outspokenness. What use would there be in wearying you with the tedious details of my incomplete thoughts? It would be selfish of me and uncompassionate to outline them to you and the rest of the Group.

"You have had a long and trying session with us today and two more of my fellows await your pleasure after me. Would it be compassionate of me to take any more of your precious time? Would it help to remedy my 'lack of compassion and patience' in any way? And while I would have the pleasure of speaking to you and expanding on my thoughts the task will not be furthered by it and you will not benefit from it. Therefore, despite the temptation to spill my thoughts to you, I choose to remain silent on the matter and call upon you to help me to keep my resolve."

Hermione was speechless. She tried to come with a counterargument but nothing came to her. Any argument she chose would be met with more of his hogwash. After Bellatrix, she wanted to butt heads with her ex-Professor but it would just waste everyone's time and achieve nothing in the end. She wouldn't give him that pleasure. "Very well. We will postpone this conversation until the next meeting but no further. If you do not come up with an answer by then, you will start to lose points, just like Mr. Dolohov." She wrote 'Be merciless with Mr. Snape. Merciless!'

"As you say, Dr. Granger. I aim to please."

Dolohov snorted. "Good one, Snape. Aim to please. Fuck it all sideways if that's not hilarious. You're a real player. When you tweak a fanny, you tweak it good, eh? That's two, Dr. Granger," he told her in a mocking, effeminate voice. "Don't you get any ideas now, you twat."

She silenced him once more. Dolohov silently said "Oops," and hit his head on his headrest.

Hermione was already feeling better. "And now we turn to you, Mr. Carrow. How will you regain the respect of others?"

"Ah, I will do what the Malfoys always did. I will donate my money to the Ministry and St. Mungo's and Hogwarts," he told her loftily. Then he giggled.

"You don't have any money. The Ministry confiscated all of it to pay for the war damages."

"They did what?" There was no trace of laughter on his face now. "Then I will found a library with the many rare and valuable books in my collection to benefit the Wizarding public."

"The Ministry burned those books. They were deemed too Dark and dangerous for the public. Not that there were that many of them to begin with. Now Snape's stash… Anyway, you have no money, books or other possessions."

The man's eyes darkened, he bared his teeth in a feral smile. "They can't take my things away from me. I won't allow it. I'll-" He grew quiet once more. "I find myself at a loss. Advise me how should I regain their respect?"

"Group?" she prompted the rest. "Yes, Mr. Pettigrew."

"Respect is found through humility. He who gives our good lady er doctor his respect and devotion will be rewarded back tenfold. Peter knows this."

"What a toady," someone said.

"Too true," someone else replied.

"Mr. Pettigrew makes a good point," the doctor overrode them. "Acting with humility and demonstrating remorse for your past 'mistakes' will take you a long way in regaining others' respect. That applies to all of you."

"Don't listen to her, Amycus." His sister warned him. "Don't let her turn you against everything you stood for. You should be proud of your accomplishments. You were a role model to a whole generation of Hogwarts students. Seeking the respect of your inferiors will only demean you to their level. Don't wallow in the mud with this filth."

"Ms. Carrow." Hermione bared her own teeth. "Still wallowing in your foul prejudices I see. Could it be that you did not even try to find ways to break out of your sickening attitudes?"

"I-" Ms. Carrow spluttered. "I never agreed-"

"That was the task you were assigned in our little Group. Are you reneging on it, Ms. Carrow?" She was sounding positively Snape-ish.

"No… of course not. I'm here aren't I?" She gave them all a defiant look.

"Well then, what did you come up with so far? Well?"

Ms. Carrow didn't reply. She tried to glare back at the doctor and opened her mouth several times to give some retort but Hermione's glare silenced her.

She looked pleadingly at her brother. "Say something damn it," she shouted. There was a wild look in her eyes. "How can you let that filth address me like that? Brother, you have to say something." Her brother gave a little giggle. "Traitor!" She spat in his face. Her eyes jumped wildly from one person to another until finally they settled on the other woman in the room. "Bellatrix, you hate them as much as I do. Help me!"

Bellatrix pouted. "I don't hate them, do I?" she replied in a childish singsong. "I love them. So pretty and fragile. Pretty and fragile, pity they struggle, look how they stumble, gladly I'll dabble."

"No one is going to help you." Dr. Granger told the woman. "Since it's obvious you're incapable of coming up with ways to overcome your prejudices by yourself I will tell you what you must do. You will be polite to me and learn to tolerate me. In time you will need to embrace the truth that all humans, be they Pureblood, Muggleborn or even Muggles are your equals. Work hard to break out of your diseased belief system and you will become part of normal society once more, in spirit if not in flesh."

Hermione leaned forward. "This was a good session, Group. We examined the defects of each of you and worked on finding ways to remedy them and what's more, we did it in a relatively polite and orderly manner. But there is an important additional lesson to be learned from today's session. Can anyone guess it? No? It is that the defects each of you has are shared by everyone else. By revealing your own faults and discussing them openly with the rest, you helped everyone else in the Group deal with these same defects in themselves. Don't denounce one of your number or another for the things they revealed today. Don't despise them for what happened to them in today's session. Instead, support them in their struggle to overcome their defects. Remember that you yourself share their defects. You are all prejudiced against Muggleborns and Muggles to some degree or another. You would not have become Death Eaters otherwise. You are all lacking in the trustworthiness department. You would not sit here cuffed to your chaired without wands otherwise.

"In the following sessions we will try to address each of these defects you suffer. I want all of you to consider what was discussed today and ask yourself how it may apply to yourself. Next session we will address the issue of trustworthiness, for without trust there is no Group.

"Good luck."

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><p><span>Author's Note<span> – Thanks for the reviews HermesPotter and BeautifulDay.

You're right Inkfire, my Hermione in this story is a bit on the naive side.


	3. Interlude: There's Gold in Them Thar hil

Thanks: to Krystle Bertoncin, my new Beta, for streamlining this story and cheering me along the way.**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Ready to Face the Music?<strong>

Interlude One - There's Gold in Them Thar Hills

Hermione entered the room and seated herself in her usual chair. The emptiness of the room depressed her. She straightened her skirt, moved her chair a bit and even rearranged her sleeves. At last, she directed her attention at the lone occupant of the room beside herself.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, neutrally.

"Yes, my lady, if Pettigrew may call you that here, when the others are elsewhere?" He leaned forward, eagerly. Without waiting for a reply he ploughed on. "In the past week Pettigrew gathered all the information he could for your benefit. Discreetly, he arranged with the gaolers to have these private meetings. Do not fear, none of the others suspect. Everything is going according to your plan. You shall not regret your trust in Pettigrew."

Dr. Granger slumped a little in her seat. "What makes you think I wanted you to do this?"

"Why… what other purpose could there be to the exercise, my lady?"

"Maybe I wanted you to do what I told you to do: show that you were trustworthy. Is that so difficult to understand?"

Her patient paled. "Forgive me, my lady, but surely you don't consider the others worthy of our trust?" He pushed his rotund face at her, his eyes wide. "Pettigrew would never betray your trust. The lady can rest assured of that! But your Death Eaters, they're monsters, every last one of them! They deserve no kindness from us. They will wrench your guts out through your mouth, laughing the first chance they get. You're shocked, I see, but that is who they are. Pettigrew only wishes to help, Lady."

"Help?" Hermione's hands closed to fists. "You were the worst of the lot. The traitor that gave Voldemort his friend's secret, my friend's parents! You're the one responsible for their deaths and misery, not Voldemort."

"I was forced. The Da-" Pettigrew cleared his throat. "Voldemort, was powerful and Peter was weak, too weak and too small to resist the likes of him. Peter could hold no secrets against him."

"Don't make me laugh. I know your secret. You were probably the most powerful of the marauders. The curse you used to kill all those Muggles when you framed Sirius was not the work of a mere weakling and you achieved your Animagus form just like them at a ridiculously young age. You breached the Weasley's defenses and infiltrated their house for years without any of them ever guessing."

"Oh, my lady, do not frown so, Peter knows a few tricks, that is true, but Voldemort was much more powerful. Pettigrew could never resist his Legilimency. His abilities in Legilimency were unmatched."

"Snape could resist him."

"So he claims. Snape's right hand doesn't know what his left hand is doing. Peter is a simple Wizard, with a Gryffindor's straightforward mind."

Hermione snorted. She opened her mouth to shoot down his argument then paused. What was she doing? She shut her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at the repellent Wizard. She wasn't being a very good doctor. All her books said that hostility was a big no-no and here she was doing just that with the rat. She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and looked at her patient.

"Be that as it may, Mr. Pettigrew, you need to improve your attitudes toward your fellow Group members. Tattle telling on them is no way to do that. Why don't you go back to your cell and wait for our regular Group session?" Professional. That was her motto.

Pettigrew bit his lip. "The lady is angry with Peter and rightly so. He has failed her test. He asked her to meet him, all eager to spill the secrets he learned. The secrets the good doctor wanted him to keep close to his heart and not tell a soul. Nothing he could do now could worsen his offense. Nothing."

"Don't take it so harshly. I'm sure that with time you'll improve."

"No, don't try to make Pettigrew feel better. What he did was inexcusable. He has disappointed you. Even if he told you all he learned about his fellow former Death Eaters his crime couldn't be any greater."

"Well," Dr Granger paused unsurely.

"Let Peter do some good at least after all the bad he did today. Pettigrew failed the test, but if he tells his doctor what he learned, the doctor would have the knowledge to care for her poor patients better. Please let Pettigrew tell you what he learned."

His argument did make a certain kind of sense Hermione had to concede to herself. It would be a great help to have this inside source about her patients just like he said and she was curious what the other patients told him. It was probably wrong to do this but, well, it would be just this once and later she would scold him and tell him never to do it again. Yes.

"Very well, if you really want to tell me what you learned so much, I'm willing to listen. Not that I approve, of course."

"Very good, my wise, clever lady." Pettigrew leaned forward. "First came Goyle. It pains Peter to repeat to my lady what Goyle said to Pettigrew in the meeting but my lady expects complete candor from Pettigrew. 'The doctor smells good,' he tells me, bold as brass. I was at a loss of words; you must believe Peter. The lady whisked him back to his place before Pettigrew could defend her honor. It is not Pettigrew's place to say but my lady should put him in his place. Do not be intimidated by his size. His magical powers are nothing compared to yours and you have him at your mercy."

Hermione jumped in. "Does Snape direct him? Is he using him as his cat's paw?" She was sure she was right about that.

Pettigrew's eyes lit up. "Snape whispers in his ear at every 'Walky Break'." His nose wrinkled in disgust. Apparently Goyle's term had taken hold among her patients. Hermione shook her head. "He's turning him against you, using him just like you said, as his cat's paw. Someone as unexceptional as Goyle could never humiliate you by himself, my lady. And you should know, it's not just Goyle. He takes Amycus and Alecto to his corner often enough as well. Pettigrew tried to listen in to their conversation but they become hostile every time I get near. Peter believes he's trying to sabotage your Psyche Therapy healing. Do you know how he uses the privileges you gave him? He ordered a bunch of Psyche's books and writes pages and pages of subversive Psyche Notes on a clipboard of his own."

Hermione rose to her feet and walked over to Snape's chair. She looked down on it. What was Mr. Snape up to? "What did the others say?" she asked, not looking at him.

"After you sent Goyle back to his place, Dolohov wasted our time with endless talk about the weather. There was nothing important in what he said. The man's a guttersnipe fool. Bellatrix… Bellatrix said that if it were up to her she would kill me. Like a, rat. You must protect me from her. The woman is dangerous!"

"Yes, I'll do what I can," the doctor replied absentmindedly. Retaking her seat, she asked, "what did Snape have to say?"

Pettigrew's chest rose. "Snape recited a spell to Pettigrew. Peter did not recognize it, unfortunately. But Snape was too arrogant this time. He did not suspect that Pettigrew would repeat his words to someone as smart, as studious, as you and even if he did, he always scorned your academic talents as you well recall."

Hermione curiosity lit up. "Well, let's hear it."

Pettigrew's lids half dropped. "It went like this: 'Ellohey, oh nay itay olley.' Pettigrew thinks it might be Mermish."

Hermione's forehead wrinkled. She picked up her clipboard and pen. "Say it again," she ordered. She had a certain suspicion. All those –ay sounds at the ends of words… It sounded very Pig-Latinish.

Pettigrew did so, looking proud of himself. Hermione wrote it down. She was right.

"You idiot!" She flung her clipboard away from her.

"Pettigrew is sorry, so very sorry. Pettigrew won't do it again, the lady must believe him."

Hermione glared at him. "You don't even know what you're sorry for."

"I'm sorry for disappointing you," he replied immediately.

Hermione huffed. "Let me tell you then. Your so called 'information' is nothing more than an insulting message Snape sent me through you in Pig Latin. A schoolchild could see it for what it was."

"Peter was home schooled," Pettigrew moaned. "He never learned the pigs' Latin."

"This entire meeting was useless. All it accomplished is to prove that 'Pettigrew' can't be trusted. And that he's useless. A useless useless fool. Might as well tell me what the Carrows told you and be done. You told me everyone else's secrets. After that I'm leaving and I don't want you to bother me again outside Group Session time. I hope you've learned your lesson. I only lowered myself to listen to you because you begged me."

"Pettigrew can still be useful. Without him the lady would not know that Snape conspires with the Carrows. Or that he reads Psyche's books behind your back and has a clipboard of his own. And, Pettigrew also knows important dark secrets concerning the nefarious activities of Snape and the others from the days of the Dark Lord."

"We already know all their secrets. They were thoroughly investigated and tried. We caught every last one of you."

"Surely the lady doesn't believe she knows all their secrets?" His lips opened in a grin. "Did my lady ever hear about Snape's Hidden Death Treasure, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

Hermione rose to her feet. "Will you never learn? I'm not interested in Snape's blood money. I'm trying to heal all of you. I'm trying to get St. Mungo's to see, through you, that Psychotherapy is the way to treat the ill of mind. And what will I have to tell them now? That instead of progressing, patient Peter Pettigrew is regressing!"

Pettigrew made a shushing sound. "Peter is only trying to help. The lady is a good and righteous Witch. Assisting her in her endeavors is not a bad thing to do. Revealing dark, criminal secrets is not a bad thing to do. Pettigrew never meant to imply the lady would want the treasure for selfish reasons. No! The lady would employ it for the betterment of the Magical World, or the Muggle World for that matter. She would build a Psyche Ward in St. Mungo's with it. Or give it to the victims of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Who knows? Pettigrew is sure she will do good with it instead of letting it collect dust in some dunk cave to the sorrow of all."

The doctor tried to remain disinterested but it was hard. She needed money. She didn't like to dwell on her lackluster accounts and nearly empty Gringotts safe. No one saw the benefits of her, magically speaking, revolutionary treatment. She had to finance it out of her own savings and she wasn't making any new money. Fighting for what was right wasn't 'A Fiscally Responsible Proposition!' as the goblins took delight in telling her every time she saw them. If it weren't for Harry's help she wouldn't even get the Ministry's approval for this project. She could always ask Harry to loan her some of his money, but she didn't like to ask.

It was so easy during the War's aftermath, when they broached the Death Eaters' safes. Everything was possible back then. Discovering this secret treasure would be just like that, wouldn't it? There would be nothing shady about it. She would hand over the money to her Auror friends and if she took a little finder's fee, who could blame her?

"I suppose you know where this hidden treasure is stashed?" she asked her patient trying to sound indifferent.

He wasn't fooled. "Would the doctor write good things about poor old Peter Pettigrew? Will she protect him from the others and give him privileges?"

The doctor pinched her nose. "Fine." Was she failing her doctor's oath? Definitely not, she told herself. This was for the greater good after all. It wouldn't be any other way while she was in charge. "You must not tell any more of your fellow patients' secrets unless it's for their own good, or to curtail criminal activities they were or are involved in," she added, to make herself feel better.

Pettigrew positively glowed. "Never fear, my lady. Pettigrew hears and obeys."

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><p><span>Author's notes:<span> For anyone who couldn't figure Snape's coded message it's a transcribed (and hence has mistakes in it) Pig Latin, otherwise known as Ix-nay, of the sentence "Hello, Know-it-all."

Psyche – is the heroine of the tale "Cupid and Psyche" from the Greek Mythology.

Thanks once more to Inkfire for her great review.


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